Rudy Yuan’s Streak oF BluE

Before your mind makes hasty decision upon reading the title, I’d like to say: no you perverts, this is not a sexually dirty post!

But this is kinda dirty. *hehe*

It is commonly known that some people like to bring reading material into the toilet (means, when they poo) (the italic, of course, is to emphasis that the “material” includes the graphical pages of people raising their hips, or opening their legs apart, or some sticks stuck inside some mouths, etc kind of thing).

Well, I have been trying to follow the trend. Yet I can’t understand in the pleasure of it…

I brought cartoon, and found myself too absorbed in it I forgot to poo at all! (how could you concentrate on your eyes and on your little hole at the same time?).

I brought novel, and felt the notion that reading the long meaningful words was simply a more sophisticated activity that couldn’t be combined with sitting on toilet while discharging the foulest part of your body. It’s like debating about philosophy or the essence of life in a garbage dump. Who did that?! We did that over the internet guys, like in this stupid blog, not in the dump.

I brought porno, and found myself discharging something else entirely. 

NO lah, I didn’t have porno.

So I changed tactic.

Maybe if I needed to concentrate only on reading, I could achieve the mythical activity of reading while pooing. So I carefully chose an occasion where I could barely hold back my bowel movement. When the opportunity came, I grabbed my cartoon and headed to the toilet.

Total failure. It was so pleasurable to have the bowels discharged that my fingers didn’t respond to my mind’s order to flip through the pages. And by the time I finished, what was the point of lingering in the toilet and reading the comic while I could sit somewhere else more comfortable and less smelly than the toilet I’d just contaminated with the notorious fragrance of my poo?

So I still couldn’t bring myself to believe to the fact that I was not suited to do multitasking job while pooing. Thence I tried several other things. Ipod. Handphone. Nothing worked. I couldn’t even finish one song, didn’t even finish one SMS, let alone calling somebody! Imagine me over the phone:

‘oh hey, eeeeeeeeeeeee (the sound of me pushing like moms pushing when they deliver babies), sorry I am in the middle of pooing, eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, where are you now? What? I want to have that Es Cendoooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel too!’

Sweet. Maybe I’d killed his appetite of Es Cendol.

So tell me, what is the secret behind multitasking while pooing?! Where lays the mythical pleasure? 

I never give up though. I still bring something sometimes. Like just now.

I brought my novel and my ipod and told my friend to keep watch on the monitor while I went for the toilet. When I was back, he asked, “Why did you bring that stuff, did you even have time for it?” 

Well, I opened the bookmark when IT came, then there came the pleasure of something passing through the small orifice of mine, and my eyes could no more concentrate on the words. And then there was this “plung” sound as the thing landed on the water. I put aside my novel, pushed the flush to flush it away before it made aromatic smell, and waited. Oh lucky, there was second wave. Where was my novel, where was it!?!!! Oh here it was. I took it. And then the second attack came even as I opened the pages, and my face contorted as I pushed hardly. And I forgot the novel in my hand. PLUNG. I put aside the novel and flushed again. Ahhh, it felt good. I waited, oh there ain’t no more. So I got up, put on my underwear and went out. (NO LAH, I cleaned myself first).

In the end, I managed to finish the whole thing without even reading one line. GREAT.

Any advise?

First of all, HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!! Gong Xi Fa Cai ya! I know it’s too late, but if you haven’t got one from me, you’d better brace for your rocky journey this year.

The CNY week was a hectic days of my life. I was happy to be able to see my families. I was happy to be able to go to Lake Toba after 5 years (or even longer than that?) of not even seeing it. I was happy I spent the CNY with my dearest families. And MOST OF ALL I was so happy I still got angpao (red envelope USUALLY containing money ;P), even though I have worked and earned my own money, and even though the amount was not as high as when I was still a jobless.

Talking about travel, we all know that some people do like to travel. They like to be in different places at different times, seeing different things, and for different reasons too (for exampe: escaping the hitman, running away from bossy wife, or even a little escapade with the sexy mistress…)

I have to admit, traveling do make my mind clearer and lighter…. IF it happens occasionally.

———————————–

24 JAN 09 : I was in Bula, the capital town of East Seram. Early dawn, I had woken up to catch the morning car that would take us from the site to the airport in Bula. From Bula then I flew with small chartered airplane to Ambon.

STILL 24 JAN 09, a little bit later : I landed in Ambon, the capital of Maluku, LOADED with happiness that my holiday was drawing near. But the exhilaration soon died away as I had to wait 4 hours for my next flight in the airport. I spent it walking around, throwing glances (maybe there’s someone out there interested in quick sex in the bathroom.. a BJ would be nice…

Relax, I didn’t get any, my body’s still yours…), listening to the iPod (again, this is the greatest invention that saves my life from boredoom many times!), and going in and out of the ATM (LOL, I don’t even know what I was doing…).

YES, STILL 24 JAN, around the afternoon : I landed in Surabaya for transit. Well, it’s not even a transit. Something exciting happened here, but it’s too long, just read the footnote… hehe.

YES, YES, STILL 24 JAN, later: I landed in Jakarta. Horray, I thought, finally. I put my bag in my room, and then not even changing clothes, took off with a taxi to Grand Indonesia. Literally RIGHT AWAY, not even a bath. LOL. There was a BCA Food Fest up to 50%. People like me wouldn’t miss that, EVER!
I planned to take a haircut there. NOT ACCOMPLISHED. I planned to use the BCA food fest opportunity. NOT ACCOMPLISHED. I planned to eat early since I was starving after not eating much that day. NOT ACCOMPLISHED TOO! My beloved friends and I ended up eating ice cream while waiting for our turn for a Japanese pasta restaurant. It was so full. That’s what attracted us.

I did plan to treat my friends. ACCOMPLISHED BUT it’s actually OVER my planned budget. LOL. No, friends, I did mean to treat you fair and square.

>>>

25 JAN, 0300 o’clock: webcamming with someone. I hadn’t had enough sleep yesterday, and now I wasted my sleeping time (well, it’s not wasted. My friends called it “future-investment in relationship” and I got my share of pleasure from that cam… *laughing naughtily*). And thanks for that, I cancelled my plan to go to the church for the morning sermon that day. LOL.

25 JAN, 1300: after sleeping just 4 hrs, and preparing everything, I ONCE again had to travel by plane. I was going home to Siantar. Well, I landed in Medan, of course… 

Medan was hot as usual. More crowded than before. And not better in any ways. My parents picked me up, and we headed, directly, to the mall. LOL. Oh my god, Thamrin Plaza was packed with such a crowd it smelt like pigsty (the crowd part is true, the smell not). ALL the people were busy browsing, shopping, and more importantly, MOST of which spoke HOKKIEN! This was the world I missed, the ubiquitous Hokkien..
We headed for our auntie’s house next. We were spending the CNY’s Eve with them, having our CNY’s eve dinner with them in a reserved restaurant. (For you not familiar with CNY tradition, CNY’s eve is a time when family gathers around and have a usually big and slurpy meal). Ours was fine, though others complained not good enough.

We spent the night in our auntie’s house.

>>>

JAN 26: HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR. It’s the year of the Ox, my zodiac sign. Well, this year would not be good for us Oxen, according to the horoscope. Maybe I would lose the ability to produce milk some time around this year (just don’t let me lose the ability to produce THAT thick milk from the hard shaft of mine)

After resting, exchanging GONGXI, and eating breakfast, I once again had to travel. This time with a car, to Siantar. It usually took 2.5 hrs, but my father was a more cautious (if not boringly slow) driver. It took him probably 3 hrs plus.

When I got home, the first thing I sought was not my friends MIE PANSIT, to me the most nostalgic delicacy of Siantar! Well, THAT after we visited our Grandparents, of course. To put family behind food is a total blasphemy, no?

After ALL THAT, I was not allowed to rest still. We, the extended families, were to meet in KarangSari (a so-so tourist attraction 1 hr away from Siantar heartland) to have another big-family dinner. Well, all I ate there was rice plus fried chicken plus Bihun plus ikan teri.

>>>

JAN 27: I had to wake up early, we were leaving for another travel to Parapat, a city at the side of Lake Toba. I didn’t even unpack my suitcase. I just took out what I might not need and my mom put in what they might need. We were good to go, yet I was exhausted.

We took off at 7. It was off one hour from the planned schedule (they wanted to catch the boat early). At least I got another meal of MIE PANSIT that morning.
The road to Parapat took 1 hr or more, through the extreme winding road cutting the pine forest. Somewhere along the road, you could see the breathtaking vast lake down below, shimmering light blue, reflecting the sunlight the heaven so generously gave.

STILL JAN 27: We arrived at TigaRaja, a spot somewhere in Parapat, I guess… From there we would take the boat to cross the lake to the Samosir Island in the centre of the lake. The trip with the boat was relieving, with the scenery and the wind.

The boat crossed the lake to the other side at approximately 1 hour, stopping at several hotels scattered along the lakeside. Samosir island was quite big. Lake Toba itself was claimed as the biggest lake in Indonesia, and one of the rare geological phenomena caused by supervolcano explosion millenia ago. Local folklore, though, storied about broken promises that caused a woman cry into this lake.

The place we were going were called TukTuk. It was a small cape jutting out of the roughly ellipsoid island. You could go by boat with 7000idr per head, or you could go by ferry boat along with your car. The place was small but nice. It was a favorite destination for holiday, I guess.
>>>

JAN 28: this was the only day I didn’t travel anywhere. I burnt my skin from playing in the lake too long, though. Like a roasted Ox, my cousin said.

>>>

JAN 29: We took the boat back to Parapat around noon, went to have lunch in a Minang Restaurant (I ate 5 pieces of chicken - my record yet) plus an egg. NO wonder I had this protruding tummy… 

I drove back from Parapat to Siantar since my father had this ache on his foot finger. I had been told time and time again that I drove recklessly. That’s why druing the journey my brother yelped and shrieked, my father sat restlessly and gave occasional advices and warnings. I ignored them all. LOL.

Exhausted but not resting. Upon reaching Siantar, we managed to go to two small dining place to have ice and miso treats. A quick nap, and I was ready for another delicous meal (despite my angst against the ever getting bigger belly of mine, I just simply could not resist the idea of Siantar meal passing through my mouth)

>>>

JAN 30: It was truly hectic day too. I woke up at the morning, my eyes were still swollen from not getting enough sleep. My soggy brain managed to get my mom to several places to buy breakfast, contacted several old friends to meet in a restaurant to have a meal over a nostalgic short reunion, and repacked all my things. We were to leave for Medan that afternoon (I had to even hasten a friend to finish his coffee during the short reunion… sorry man.. :P)

And I was given the grand seat of a driver yet again. Probably my father decided he needed a little more excitement to pump his adrenaline.

My brother dared not stay awake. My father dared not sleep. He talked and warned less, but I know better he was damn uptight seeing how I drove. LOL.

We arrived safely though, with no scratch at all. 

We were going to stay at my auntie’s house again. So we had dinner with them in a seafood restaurant with a MANDIRI and BCA promo of 50% off! Well, it was delicious and not helping me in reshaping my tummy at all!

>>>

JAN 31: Woke up, left in the morning to shop for my parents’ shop, and went to the biggest mall in Medan, the Sun Plaza. I hated that mall. Really nothing to see, but I managed to buy several pairs of underwear, a T-Shirt, and pooed in its toilet. LOL.

I took taxi home (Medan actually had Express taxi service too! Really shocking for me, I assumed it would be as cheap as its counterpart in Jakarta). The meter said 12500, so I generously paid 15000. The driver then said, sorry, the minimum payment is 25000. WHAAT, i thought, WHAT kind of rule is this? (It’s like taking the Metromini and asked to pay fixed rate, only in this they provided AC). Then I’d better ask him to drive me around first! I kept my cool and paid him, though. Medanese! (to defend for my pride, it was indeed the rule for the express taxi in Medan. So I heard a Medanese).

I flied back that night to Jakarta. Upon arriving in my room, not a tiniest exhaustion seemed to disappear, but my frustation indeed grew. I hated that small room of mine. And the heat. I supposed I did another webcam session that night…
———

When I sat in my room, and reflected the one week I had passed, the exhaustion came. I felt like a saggy old man. A full week of traveling, every single day! Except the one day I stayed in TukTuk. And I was alive and doing webcam still! Long live youth!!

 

– END of EXHAUSTION –

 

A footnote on Surabaya Transit:

I had taken this transit flight many times, and it never required me to get off the plane. I could just sit my fatty ass (no, it’s truly lean, really) and waited for the plane to take off again.  But not this time, the stewardess asked me to get off the plane and check back in later (she was so charming I could not even utter a word of response…. what a loser).

So I got off. I went into a store, bought a Sinchan, and decided to check in. And that’s when I cursed F*CK (or SH*T, I can’t really remember). To be able to enter the waiting room, I needed to pass checkpoint, which required a boarding pass, of course. And I didn’t have any! The plane was supposedly going to take off in 20 minutes, and I had spent 15 to browse the shop for the not-so-helping Jakarta Post and Sinchan comic I bought!

So I paced the long hallway (it’s damn long), looking for the right gate, hopeful that I might chance upon someone from the plane. NO LUCK. 2 minutes spent.

That’s when I saw a man, with Batavia logo on his T-shirt. 

Surprisingly he was knowledgeable. I was supposed to get a transit boarding pass from a guy looming somewhere when I got off. But I didn’t see him. So he said he would search for the culprit. We walked the (again, DAMN) long hallway to the furthest end, just to find that the guy was nowhere to be seen. And he wisely told me to look for Batavia transit counter. 

“Just walk straight and you’d find it in the left-hand side” he said. (I thought, you couldn’t take me there ar? I was YOUR passenger ar, you SUPPOSEDLY serviced me nicely, not LEAVING me behind alone confused and AFRAID… I was going to cry).

I walked STRAIGHT through the hallway and looked left all the time I thought my head wouldn’t get back to its original straight position no more. I saw only Lion Air counter and some obscured counter. None of them knew any Batavia transit procedure. SHIT, my time was running out.

“Oh, ask the counter below” a man in Lion’s Air outfit told me.

I shouldn’t have trusted him. He was a rival flight service employee anyway.

I went downstairs, looked for the Batavia counter and they told me JUST GET INTO GATE 1 QUICK. I ran, of course with the heavy backpack. The guy at the checkpoint Gate 1 told me, sorry sir, you oughta have a transit boarding pass.

WHAT THE ****! I was frustated. I was not going to become Tom Hanks in Terminal Man! 

That’s when the god stopped to pull comedy on me. I met a fellow passenger (I knew because he was on the same small plane from Bula). He was a westerner, so I thought I managed to choke out some English from my mouth. Oh you are supposed to get a transit boarding pass from a man when we took off, he said, but be at ease, the flight is delayed 1 hour. OH geez, that’s when I felt a surge of relieve and I felt like wanting to kiss that man (he’s ugly, btw).

Somehow I managed to find that damn man. He was INSIDE gate 1, no wonder I hadn’t been able to look for him. Fyuh

– a note from me before reading:
1.  i know the title really sounds like the famous site of “overheard in new york” which is also copied by “overheard in jakarta”. yes, i copy their idea of naming. 2. this is kinda long, i guess. and really not important. and kinda complicated. please don’t waste your time.. lol
3. all conversations are actually conducted in Indonesian, but i convert them to English for awesomeness
_______________

to understand the nature of the story, we have to know the background.

i rent a room in southern jakarta as per now. the rooms rented are apart from the main house, in which two madams live. let’s called their names by Mba I and Mba N (this is TRUE and REAL initial, so this is not fiction… :P). 

The whole house is an inheritance left to a man, whose name I don’t know. for the sake of the story, let’s call him the husband. Mba I is the sister of the husband, and Mba N is the wife of the husband. There are also little children and probably another man (mba I’s husband, i suppose) living in the house, which are all not so important…

So by law, the house belongs to the husband, who gives it to his wife, Mba N, as an asset to be maintained. Mba I’s family lives with them out of the husband’s mercy, since she is his sister and seems like she has nowhere to live. Mba I works as a servant in the house, who is responsible for washing and cleaning, i guess.

My room is rented to me 500thou a month. 100thou is for washing (which i think too much since i wash only several times a month. i consider it charity). At the beginning of my stay, Mba N seldom lived in the house. So Mba I collected all the money (up till today, actually).

Starting several months ago, Mba I started to ask for one month ahead rent, which only i among others occupiers gave. she said her children were goin into new semester and needed lotsa preparation, and she needed money. 

since i was an active donor of UNICEF (i say this to show off… hey support UNICEF too guys! let’s help the children), how could i not help her trying to send her children to school? so i gave her the next month rent and she said I wouldn’t need to pay the rent anymore next month.

But surprisingly, Mba I seemed like always short of money, so i always paid the rent for the next month ahead, as she kept asking for it every month. I got annoyed somehow…

Several months ago, Mba N contacted me (i still wonder how she got my number. we never contacted each other before). 

“mas, hav u paid the rent for this month?” was the message appeared on my cell. It was past the due date of my rent pay. Since i always paid the rent one month before, how could i be late, rite? this meant Mba I didn’t give the rent to her. well, i was out of town, this Mba I probably used that as excuse of me not yet paying the rent past due date.

“yes, i already gave it to mba I” i sent the text back.

nothing happened afterwards until several months later. 

“mas, hav u given the rent to mba i for this month? this is past due date already” mba N texted me again as i was out of town. i was furious of course. how could mba I did this, TWICE, as i had been so kind in lending her money all these months? at least she could hold up my honor by giving the money on time so my name wouldn’t be tainted as a late-payer.

“mba N, i hav even paid the rent for next month to mba I” i sent back.

apparently mba N was kinda slow thinker. we texted each other several times as she got the idea that i had been paying rent one month ahead till then.

this created ruckus, apparently.

several days later, an sms came. this time from mba I.

“mas rudy, i know u’ve paid the rent for next month, but could u say otherwise to mba N? i need this money to buy utensils for my children. his father just works as a parking officer, we couldn’t cover all the expenses. i’ll pay the rent to mba N as soon as i get the money. just let me handle it, mas rudy just leave it to me. please don’t get me and Mba N into a fight”

i didn’t reply the message, since she said she was goin to handle it anyway. and  mba N didn’t contact me afterwards.

Last month: mba I knocked on my door and asked for next month rent. it was 24th. i gave her, as usual, since i didn’t want her to ruin my branded clothes i am giving her to wash… they were somewhat the same price as the rent anyway. hihi.

somehooooow, mba N noticed it.

when i was in holiday, mba N actually called me on my cell. 

“mas rudy, i know u’ve paid the rent for this month, but why mba I asked for rent again to you last 24th? did u give her the rent for next month?”

as i am a very honest boy who has honesty above all as policy, honestly i answer “yes, i paid her the rent for next month” (i actually feel like a traitor by saying this)

“mas, i think we hav to talk about this. can we meet when u get back to talk face to face?”

i was in the middle of my holiday, of course i didn’t want to be disturbed, so i easily and quickly said “yes, let’s talk when i get back”

DATE: Feb 04, 2009

mba N came to my room. “mas, this is the receipt for rent payment for this month” (i did receive receipts but it stopped coming several months ago as mba I started asking for next month rent), “mas can we talk?” the receipt was just an excuse to lure me out of my room, since i kept dodging the moment mba N wanting to speak to me (i didn’t reply one message asking when i’d be home).

i dread confrontation. but it seemed like there’s no escape from this. “yes we can talk”

so she sat sweetly on the bench, hands above her laps, and smiled. (she was quite attractive…)

“mas, is it true that mba I asked for next month rent to you and you paid?”

i felt truly uncomfortable. i still didn’t want my branded clothes to be ruined if mba I found out i betrayed her. (what a coward excuse i know.. but i love my clothes… really truly love them.. haha). 

“umm, how yaa..” i hesitated

“never mind mas. this house is mine not hers and mba I just works here for me. u can say the truth”

i still hesitated and mba N kept pushing me.

Mba I came out. “oh, i wondered who were talking. what seemed to be the problem?” she was much much less beautiful in comparison with mba N. rumor said she was a bit eccentric too. thankfully she had small posture, so it wasn’t intimidating at all.

mba N: “mas, just say the truth. hav u given next month rent?” her voice raised a little. her smile gone. she was still beautiful. eyes got narrower and they cast a sideway glance to mba I.

mba I: “not yet, mas. u hav not, rite?”

i let my lips stretch, half smiling. “umm. let it be like this: i’d just transfer u the rent starting from next month” i addressed mba N.

mba N: “yes it’s okay. but the truth, hav u paid the next month rent?”. she was not gonna let go, wasn’t she? i thought. i hated to be trapped in between like this. why no one understood my position??

mba I: “no, not yet. yes yes, mas rudy’d better transfer to mba N BCA account next month. it can be arranged”

mba N: “please don’t interrupt. is it true at 24th mba I asked for the advance rent to you, mas R?”

mba I quickly replied, with heightened pitch: “what? no! i didn’t, right mas rudy?”
she threw me the puppy glance (’please pity me.. please lie’). oh great, what was i supposed to do?

i didn’t want to lie, but my clothes…. so i said: “i don’t know.. let’s just say i help mba I. and then for next month i’ll just start tranferring the rent directly to u”

mba I: “yes he just helped me by paying only the washing fee”

i didn’t respond. Fury was seen suppressed under the mask of mba N face as she felt losing. i had the feeling she had been wanting to rid mba I from her house for a long time. and the expected truth from me would help her achieve her grand plan. but now i defied it, she was losing the battle she was waging. and she blurted.

“mba I, i myself saw u asked for money to mas rudy. this is my house. u couldn’t go behind my back and ask for money” and to me she said “i apologize, mas rudy, for this incovenient”

i gave her a straight face. i try to give sympathetic smile, which i think i failed.

“what are you talkin about. i never ask for money from mas rudy. mas rudy can testify for that” (oh shit, i didn’t want to testify for lie). “it’s not like i’m going to have the money for myself”

they exchanged angry words for sometime, with me standing there, trying to look some other place, scratching my balls…. then i couldn’t stand any longer, so i said “please st…” i didn’t even finish my sentence.

“NO” both of them said in unison to me. OHMIGOD, i thought, it was my money they’re both quarelling about and they dared NO-ing me ar! i kept silent though. huah, i never thought anyone could give “NO” response to an interruption in perfect unison like this before. Even in movies sometimes they miss the NO-in-unison moment by a fraction. but they “NO” me in perfect timing, in unison. i was startled.

“mas, this is the matter of our own now. mas, u may please leave” mba N said. her face bitter. but she tried to be cool to me.

yes, i thought, i could finally escape from this gunfire.

they actually stopped quarelling… at least until i closed the door to my room. here they started, even louder and it got rougher.

mba N: “why do u hav to take the money for urself?”
mba I: “i never take any money from u! it’s not like i’m gonna run away with anything”
mba N: “i am the master here. u shouldn’t do anything like that”
mba I: “like what? u treat me like a SLAVE in this place. i take care of this house, the rooms, everything. u just sit ur ass around”
mba N: “u think i never work ar? i clean the floor too”
mba I: “oh my god, u call that working? u think since u’re the wife of my brother u could do anything u like?”
mba N: “yes i can! i’ll get u kicked out of this place”
mba I: “oh my, u’re still so young yet u dare to speak to ur senior like that hah”
mba N: “what the… what r u taking the broom for?”

(this probably when mba I took the broom located on the yard. i didn’t see, i listened, with guilt. they seemed to move inside the house as the voice got smaller but the pitch got higher)

mba N: “only god knows what u do in this house. u never respect me!”
mba I: ” yes yes only god knows what too that u’re such a bitch”
mba N: “god will never let u go of this”
mba I: “what, i swear to god i never take any of your money. god will be my witness”

(o oh, i thought. both are siding with the same god, yet they are against each other. someone is going to get hurt by god later…)

mba N: “yes let god punish u and make u miserable for the rest of ur life. u’r not welcomed in this house!”
mba I: “yes let god be! and u think u’re so all powerful in this house? u’re never a match for my brother, such a bitch. u think ur husband like u ar. u’re so pushy, so demanding, so chatty. ur husband is gonna divorce u!”

i couldn’t hear any clear response to that. the children were crying loud.

a child: “mama, mama, please stop..”
one of the mba (their pitch was so high i couldn’t distinguish who’s speaking): “shut up, this is not children’s matter. go into your room!”

and they kept quarelling. i wanted to go out and stopped them. but i didn’t want to get into tornado, so i put on my mozart music and put on my headphones…

yet the child’s sound still filtered through: “mamaaaa, please stop!”

………..

15 minutes later, they eventually stopped. mba I came to my room knocking.

“mas rudy, really sorry for that. she is a nuisance. i am planning on moving out of here so i need the money. i’ll pay back the money if i hav had it.  i can’t stand living here anymore. u know how much she pays me for helping her? 50thou a month! i tidy up all the house and room everyday, and she never respects me. and i have children. it is so hard. my brother understands me, but she just never”

(i don’t want to know, mba, i thought.. i just gave her the flat smile)

“mas rudy, if my brother asks u about the money, could u say u just gave me the washing fee? please mas rudy, i didn’t have anything left. i couldn’t be kicked out of this place, yet”

(so she was afraid afterall, eventhough she dared countering mba N before)

i planned to let go the 500thou anyway. so i said i’d say so if asked.

she said thank you and left.
—————————

oh my. i saw people quarrel many times. but never before i was the element in the quarrel. i was always the outsider, the observer. it is even better to be the quarreler. but to cause people to quarrel? fyuh. yet, do i cause this? this is two people quarreling their long surpressed hatred to each other, which only sparked by the incident of me paying advance rent. 

my boarding house was kind of quiet afterwards. i haven’t seen anybody. and i don’t want to. i’m moving out of this place in a moment after all….